A Different Class Of Love
by DollyDaydreamer
Summary: What happens if you fall in love with someone you're not supposed to? Is it true that not even love can cross the class divide? Nellie, working class girl from St. Giles and Benjamin, a wealthy young man from a successful family's lives are thrown into turmoil when they meet with the help of a young lady at the top of the wrong profession. Can they survive the trouble they face?
1. 1 - What Has Become of Us

**Hello all! My God it's been a while. I know I promised you all the Sequel to Courage in January but exams happened and then coursework happened and then summer exams happened and I got serious writers block with it. It might be posted after this one if there is enough interest and people want it finished but you'll have to make do with this one for the time being ;) **

**Not sure where this came from but a few people asked if I could write a Ben/Nellie fic and as soon as I stopped trying to think of a plot for one, this came to mind :) It's a bit different to everything else I've written with multiple view points, hence the date and location headers at the top of each section to help you all (and me!) out. It is 100% un-beta-ed so all mistakes are 100% mine :) However I am looking for a beta so if anyone wants to be considered drop me a message and we can have a chat, preferably someone who has written for ST before :)**

**Anyways, I hope you enjoy, and as usual, drop us a review if you have time. Like it or not, let me know what you think.**

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**Chapter 1 – What has become of us**

_~24__th__ March 1822. Church Lane, St. Giles~_

Nellie tugged her shawl harder, trying to pull it further round her shoulders but only succeeding in ripping apart the stitches that held the two edges of a large hole together. Biting her lip she fought back the tears that threatened to spill over her dirty cheeks. Life wasn't fair but crying wouldn't make a difference.

Her vision tear-blurred, she glanced up at the scene in front of her, crawling further into the corner where she was slumped when she saw her father take another drunken swing at her mother. The woman cried out, stumbling backwards when his fist made contact with her cheek and Nellie had to imagine she hadn't heard the sickening crack of breaking bone. Looking down at her older brother lying motionless on the other side of the room she wished with all her heart that he'd get up and fight back, protect her and ma from their father. But then that was what he had been doing, and all it had achieved was the almost empty whisky bottle being smashed over his head, knocking him out.

That was how all this had started. The pot of turnip soup had been placed on the fire to keep warm until father returned home, for dinner was never served until father got home, whatever time that may be. Their meagre dinner of soup and stale rye bread was the result of a further reduced income to the already struggling Turner family. Danny boy, Nellie's older brother, had been dismissed from the docks where he hauled baskets around all day when the company had been forced to make cut backs, leaving father's pitiful wage from the factory as their only source of money.

After the soup had been over the fire for an hour Ma had begun to get suspicious. She always had dinner ready for when father was due home, exactly 20 minutes after he finished work, allowing him time to gather his things and walk home. Father liked it when dinner was ready and waiting for him. It meant he didn't have to wait, and waiting made him angry.

Of course Ma knew where he was. He was at the pub drinking away his day's earnings. Once or twice she'd thought about going down there and dragging him home. But that wouldn't have made a difference to her, as if she had, the likelihood of him beating her dead would have been high, and then she wouldn't have seen the money anyway. So either way she was destined never to benefit from her husband's job. And that was why Danny boy's redundancy had been such a blow to the family, for it was his money that had put food on their plates and scraps of cloth stitched into clothes on their backs.

After the soup had been over the fire for three hours, Nellie had left their room, dashed down the steep wooden stairs and out the house, unable to stand the smell of hop soup when her belly ached from hunger so badly. They hadn't had a proper meal in weeks and although turnip soup wasn't a dish she enjoyed, it was filling and hot and that was enough for her when the cramps got bad. She had wandered aimlessly round the maze like streets of the St. Giles rookery for what seemed like hours, passing almost all the various types of people that had found themselves poor enough to end up here. A prostitute looked her up and down critically, taking her for competition before smiling charmingly at a drunken man in a sailor's coat and ripped trousers. Around the next corner a large man with a bulging belly had reached out for her, only to trip and fall to the floor where he stay, unmoving in the layer of shit and mud. A street hawker outside a rowdy sounding pub had offered her a sample of his sheet music. He'd said she could pay in other ways than money if she had none on her. Nellie had understood exactly what he'd meant so hurried on. She never ventured out into the streets of St. Giles at this time of night so, beginning to get frightened, she'd turned for home. She had no fear of missing dinner when she returned home, when her father came home late, he came home _hours_ late.

When she finally got back to the cramped room they rented, it was still only ma and Danny boy, huddled together on the straw mattress they shared in the corner. Ma held out her other arm to Nellie and she ran over, taking comfort in the warmth of her mother. She'd buried her face in her shoulder, preferring the smell of dirt and sweat to the smell of soup.

When the door finally crashed open and father all but fell through it, the three of them had fallen asleep, only to be startled back to consciousness by the man's drunken shouting. Ma had quickly gotten up and shut the door behind him, steering him carefully towards the chair in the far corner, the only piece of proper furniture they still owned. He slumped down heavily, kicking off his boots and swaying precariously on the seat as he did so. Nellie had shuffled along the mattress and huddled up to Danny boy who wrapped his arm tightly round her shoulders, hoping he might have provided some protection from the scene in front.

Nellie had watched as ma ladled soup into a wooden bowl, only for her eye to land on the whisky bottle hanging from father's fingertips as she turned to face him. Shock and despair crossed her face. Nellie knew what this meant. Usually father drank beer all night, and when ma rooted through his trouser pockets after he'd passed out she could retrieve a few left over pennies, just about enough to buy the next evening's supper. This would not be happening tonight however.

Instead of gritting her teeth and ignoring it like she should have done, ma placed the soup down and lunged at the bottle in his hands, pulling it from his grasp. "Yer stupid stupid man! Der yer want us ter starve? Yer selfish bastard!" She had yelled, waving the almost empty bottle in his face.

His expression of drunken indifference had changed to blind anger in a matter of seconds, and finding his balance, he had shot forward, slapping ma across the face. In her moment of surprise, he had retrieved the bottle from her, raising it to his lips and downing most of what was left.

"How you 'ave the nerve to speak to me like that woman! Yer own 'usband! The man who puts food in yer belly. I should beat yer senseless fer yer words ter me yer ungrateful cow!" he had yelled, surprisingly coherently.

And that was when Danny boy had untangled himself from Nellie and lunged at father, reaching out for the bottle in his hand. If father hadn't noticed him out of the corner of his eye and made a swing for him Danny boy should have been able to restrain the man, for despite being only 16 he was already taller and broader than his father. However he was not as quick witted and, even when the older man was drunk he still had the advantage of speed.

Nellie had watched with horror as the bottle had come crashing down over her brother's head, shattering into thousands of tiny pieces that glinted in the dim light of the street lamp outside their grimy window. Danny boy cried out in pain before stumbling and falling at Nellie's feet. With a scream muffled behind her hand Nellie shot up and dashed across the room into the opposite corner as her father turned back on her ma. Nellie knew she should do something but couldn't. She was a petite 15 year old, made weaker still by malnourishment.

And that was when father had delivered the punch that she was sure had broken ma's cheekbone. Her scream of agony was something Nellie knew she would carry around with her forever.

Grabbing his wife by the shoulders, Nellie watched as her father threw her across the room, limp as a rag doll. She landed on the chair, the already feeble thing crumpling under her weight. With a last look around the room, her father stormed out, knocking over the pot as he went and spilling their dinner all over the rotten floorboards.

When the door had been slammed shut, Nellie glance around the room, wide eyed and terrified. Before she could stop it, tears came streaming down her face. She rolled up into a ball, burying her face in her arms and cried herself to sleep.

_~25__th__ March 1822. Church Lane, St. Giles~_

A hand on her shoulder squeezing gently had woken Nellie and she had briefly wondered whether keeping her eyes closed and never opening them again would be the better option. However, her brother's soft voice had persuaded her to open them and when she did the sight that greeted her shocked her almost as much as the previous night's scenes.

His face was a mess of blood smeared with the grime already clinging to his skin and his hair was matted with congealed blood. Small cuts littered his forehead and hairline, some twinkling as the dawn light reflected off the glass fragments still lodged in them and others not. A small trail of fresh blood oozed down his left cheek, dripping off his chin and onto his shirt, blending in instantly with the dark, ever growing stain on his shoulder. He tried to smile reassuringly at her when he saw her staring but it turned into a grimace as the creases on his forehead disturbed one of the deeper looking wounds.

"Father didn't come 'ome las' night." He said, grabbing hold of her hands and helping her up. A small sigh of relief escaped Nellie's dry lips. She licked them, her eyes landing on her mother lying on the mattress, her back to them.

"Ma?" She whispered, the word coming out as a breath. Eyes flicking up to her brother, she asked the dreaded question, "Is she dead?" She looked dead, Nellie thought as her eyes landed on the women lying frighteningly still on the mattress.

"She's jus' restin' Nell." Danny boy said, releasing her hands as Nellie brushed past him to kneel by her ma's side. Rolling her over confirmed what she'd tried to ignore last night. A broken cheek bone; her puffy right cheek and black eye made tears collect in Nellie's eyes again.

"She needs ter rest Nell. An' she needs food." An apologetic look and a small shrug of his left shoulder told Nellie all she needed to know. Not long from now the market would be setting up. It never took long to get busy and when it was busy the traders couldn't watch over all their goods. This was when the street urchins pounced. Anything they could lay their hands on would be snatched and stuffed under a top or a skirt before dashing off. Being caught was not an option.

With her forefinger she tucked a strand of hair behind her ma's ear. She took Danny boy's hand, pulled herself up and strode out the room, her brother hot on her heals. Skipping down the narrow wooden steps, stepping over a semi-conscious child half way down, they left the stuffy house and stepped into the chilly, smog thickened air of Church lane.

Stepping straight out into the street, she had no worries of being knocked down by a cab. Church lane was in the heart of the St. Giles rookery, the homes of the lowest of the low, and no cab would venture here. It would be several streets away before Nellie had to start looking before she crossed the road.

Danny boy was beside her but the pair didn't talk. They weaved their way through the narrow lanes and dark alleys that made St. Giles a favourite hiding place for criminals; no one would come looking in here. The dead end alleys and maze of identical looking streets made sure of that.

It was early and the sun was just beginning to penetrate the smog to reach the streets below. Nellie didn't have a clue what time it was, they'd sold their clock to pay for dinner weeks ago, but she knew it between the time when the factory workers rolled out of bed to start the trek to work, and when the more respectable men, shopkeepers and the like, began to open up to the public.

It took them a few minutes to reach the spot where the market would be, a street on the outside of the rookery where more respectable people lived. Nellie knew her family weren't anywhere near 'respectable'. She'd heard her father yelling at her ma once saying if they dropped a rung lower on the social ladder they'd be in the workhouse. Nellie knew what the workhouse was.

Although the stands were all but set up along the street Nellie realised they were early. There was scarcely a buyer in sight. Attempting anything now would be suicide. A hand on her shoulder puller her into a doorway and onto the floor. Danny boy put his arm around her shoulders and the pair sat quietly, watching and trying to look as inconspicuous as possible.

Waiting for the crowds to arrive gave Nellie the chance to watch the people strolling past. She loved to do this, and she especially loved watching the women and trying to pick out which ones really were ladies, and which were 'fallen' women, dressed up in an attempt to blend in for the day before work started in the evening.

After a few minutes, Nellie spotted a woman looking at something on a stall the other side of the street. She was young, not much older than Danny boy, and tall with thick tawny coloured hair rolled up in twists on her head. She wore a pale pink dress with white ruffles of the front and around the hem. Nellie was stumped by her. She wore the dress of a lady but the jaunty angle she was wearing her little bonnet at and the wisps of hair loose around her face made Nellie look again. With a wave of her white gloved hand she turned from the stall keeper, her eye landing on Nellie and Danny boy huddled in the corner. For a brief moment she stared at Nellie, looking closely at her face and clothes before cocking her head to the side, a warm smile on her thin lips. As quickly as she turned to face them, she turned away, disappearing into the crowd gathering in the market.

"It's gettin' busy. Let's go." Danny boy said, squeezing out from beside Nellie.

The woman in the pink dress instantly left Nellie's mind as she pulled herself up and darted into the thickening mass of market goers after her brother. The pair glanced over the stalls, trying to spot one where they could take something from one end while the trader was at the other. It didn't take them long to spot such a stall, but before they could squeeze into place, they noticed a young lad about Nellie's age with the same intentions.

Torn between revealing him in the hope of being rewarded and finding another stall, Danny boy grasped Nellie's shoulder to keep her still while they watched. He was clearly inexperienced, dithering around the edge of the stall before catching the stall owner's eye. Nellie shook her head; he didn't stand a chance now. Once spotted the trader would be sure to keep an extra close eye on him if he didn't shoo him away first.

Another customer drew the trader's attention away from the boy who took his chance, grabbing a turnip and turning to run. In his haste, he failed to notice the lady stood behind him, and the impact as he bumped into her was enough to cause him to stagger backwards, knocking the remaining turnips to the ground. It didn't take him a moment to regain his balance but he was too late, the trader had seen and lunged at him. The worn fabric of his shirt ripped in the older man's fist, allowing the lad to make a break for it, the stall owner hot on his heels.

A hard shove between her shoulder blades sent Nellie towards the stall. Glancing behind her she was just in time to see Danny boy dash off in the direction the trader and the boy had run. Without a thought to what he was doing, Nellie ran for the stall, grabbing hold of a turnip and a cabbage while the crowd pushed past to see the trader catch the boy.

Realising the chase had gone down the street her and Danny boy had come up, she turned and sprinted off in the other direction, dashing down the first alley she came to where she stuffed the stolen vegetables under her shawl. Still breathing heavily, she walked quickly down the alley, emerging onto one of the many identical looking streets of the rookery.

In a strange way Nellie realised she felt safer in the maze of St. Giles than in the outside world. The mismatched houses with their soot blackened walls, uneven roofs and cloth covered windows, the lengths of string slung with wet linen and clothes that created a ceiling over every filthy cobbled street and its overflowing drain down the middle had a sort of familiarity that reassured her.

At the end of the street the road forked into two narrower lanes. Nellie veered left automatically, moving quickly to the edge of the street where the dung and grime was shallower. Nellie looked up into the murky sky through the clothes lines. The inhabitants of this street seemed less coy than the last, with everything from ladies undergarments to ripped bed linen flapping eagerly in the wind. The streets were far more alive at this time of the morning that they had been earlier. A few old men carrying baskets or bags of produce passed her, presumably heading to the market to try and compete with the bigger stands, a flower girl too old to be called a girl and her plants too old to be called flowers held out a basket to Nellie hopefully, and a drunken hawker sang songs while struggling with a wooden tray round his neck.

From here it didn't take long for Nellie to reach Church Lane. Their tall, thin wooden house was about half way down the street, with the first floor wall bulging dangerously over the ground floor one, the rotten window frames and cracking glass windows. The door squeaked as Nellie pushed it open and she had to lift it closed again as the hinges moved with it. The corridor was narrow and made more awkward still by the vegetables still stuffed under her shawl. Sidestepping up the narrow spiral stairs, she carefully avoided the rotten ones until she reached the second floor. Their room was the second door in and she gratefully fell through it, allowing the turnip and the cabbage to roll out from under her shawl as she closed the door behind her.

The room was as she left it, Danny boy hadn't returned yet and ma was still lying on the mattress with her back to the room. Dropping the vegetables by the fire place she dashed over to the mattress and knelt on the edge.

"Ma?" she whispered softly, relieved when she stirred, "I bought us some food."

Her mother's hand instantly went up to her cheek, pressing it gently despite wincing at the contact. Nellie knew her mother wouldn't ask where the food had come from, she never did. Their father had taught them how to steal and despite ma's disapproval, even she couldn't admit it was essential at times like these.

"Where's Danny boy?" she mumbled, rolling over to face Nellie.

This question made Nellie think, for even she wasn't sure where her brother was or why he'd run off like he had. "We split up on the way 'ome." Was all she could think of as an excuse that wouldn't worry her ma. It seemed enough to satisfy her however as she nodded slowly and closed her eyes again.

A deep grumble resounded from Nellie's stomach as she stood up. Thinking back, she realised all she'd eaten the previous day was a stale crust of bread. Pressing her belly she sat down by the lifeless fire, eyes glued to the door hoping that Danny boy would come home soon.

And he did. Not long after her ma's breathing deepened to that of someone fast asleep, the door opened cautiously and Danny boy slipped inside with two large turnips cradled in his arms.

"Where've yer been?" Nellie exclaimed as she stood up and replaced the turnips in his arms.

"I caught the lad. Ran after 'im an' caught in fer the stall owner. Made out more respectable than I am an' 'e gave me them as a reward." He gestured to the turnips as he spoke.

A smile grew across Nellie's face, "We 'ave enough ter make some fer now, an' still make dinner fer when father get's 'ome." A nod and a smile from her brother was all Nellie needed to convince her to start preparing a soup for lunch.

-x-

When the sky outside was as black as ink and the street lamps were all that lit up the filthy streets of Church Lane ma took the pot of soup off the fire. It would cool over night and she could reheat it for tomorrow's dinner. They'd had hot soup for lunch as well so they could easily go without.

It was late, very late, and father still hadn't come home. He hadn't been home all day. Ma wasn't worried. She said after the argument they'd had the previous night it would take him a while to cool off. She said it was probably best he didn't come home just yet.

Nellie was worried about her ma. Her cheek was continuing to swell and was getting a darker and darker shade of blackish blue by the minute. She couldn't see a doctor though, they could never afford it.

Folding her shawl up carefully she placed it by the side of the mattress before crawling across it, curling up on the far side by the wall. Usually the four of them shared, however tonight Nellie was looking forward to having more space with her father not back.

When the three of them were settled, ma blew out the candle on the floor by the mattress, plunging the room into darkness. Nellie could feel Danny boy fidgeting beside her. He only did this when he had something on his mind. It only took a few moments for him to reveal what it was but Nellie had to strain to hear what he said, his words obviously intended for ma's ears only.

"Where der yer think father is?"

Ma sighed thoughtfully before replying, "Drinkin' probably."

"Der yer think 'e'll come 'ome termorrow?"

"I'm sure 'e will."

_~26__th__ March 1822. Church Lane, St. Giles~_

And he did. The morning was bright and crisp and the sun had been up for a while, allowing the streets of St. Giles time to warm up. Ma had opened the cracked window slightly to allow the early spring sunshine into their cramped little room. Nellie was perched on the edge of the mattress carefully re-stitching the two edges of the hole in her shawl back together again. Danny boy had gone out a while ago after ma had said she had no bread left for breakfast. They all knew where he'd gone.

As soon as the familiar pounding footsteps had sounded up the uneven wooden stairs, ma had propped the broom up in the corner, brushed down her woollen skirts and stood facing the door, her hands wringing nervously behind her back. Nellie pretended not to notice this.

The door swung open forcefully and father stomped in, hair dishevelled and face dirtier than usual. He looked like he hadn't slept. Nellie suspected he probably hadn't.

His eyes darted angrily around the room, landing first on Nellie still sewing on the mattress, then to the cold, thick turnip soup standing in the pan on the floor by the lifeless fire. Ma smiled, her usual serene calm back in place after the events two nights ago. "Would yer like some soup dear? Yer can't 'ave eaten terday."

Father looked at her pointedly, angrily, yet her exterior still did not slip, "We can't afford soup. Not anymore."

Ma frowned and Nellie stopped sewing. "Course we can. Turnip soup's what we always 'ave." Ma said, confused but still in control.

"Yeah but I always used ter 'ave a job." Father snapped. Nellie froze, wide eyed. Ma clamped her hands together tightly.

"What der yer mean?" She asked quietly. Her voice was beginning to shake.

Father stormed past her to the window. Nellie tensed up and edged away slowly. "I won't be questioned in my own 'ome!" he roared, kicking the wall. It shook, clouds of dust falling from the ceiling.

"Yer'll tell me what yer mean now John Turner." Ma hissed. For a moment Nellie thought her ma was going to have her other cheek bone broken. To her surprise her father sighed and leant against the wall.

"I've lost me job." He said with a deep sigh. Nellie watched as the colour quickly drained from Ma's face, leaving her looking old and frail. Father turned away from her and stared out the window. "I didn't go inter work yesterday. Went in this mornin' an' they said I were no longer needed."

"Why didn't yer go inter work yesterday?" Ma croaked, her voice dry and feeble.

"I were at the pub drinkin'." Father replied bluntly.

"An' where did yer get the money fer drinkin' from?" Ma asked, her voice returning with her anger.

"Found eleven shillings in a drunken man's pocket."

Nellie looked at Ma to see her almost shaking with rage, "11 shillin's? 11 shillin's! That's almost a week's rent an' yer spent the whole lot on drink?!"

Father turned back to Ma and raised his hand to strike her, only to stop and lower it when he saw how angry she was. He bowed his head and sighed. Nellie felt scared, she'd never seen her father so deflated before.

"We've no choice. There's no more money." Father said quietly, avoiding looking into Ma's eyes.

Nellie watch horrified as a tear slid down her Ma's cheek. "I can't do it." She sobbed, clutching onto father's forearms. Tears began to roll down Nellie's cheeks. She knew what this meant; this fate had hovered over her struggling family for years.

The workhouse was their only option.

**Thanks for reading and don't forget to review :)**

**Dolly x**


	2. 2 - How the Other Half Lives

**Hello all :) First off I'd like to say a massive thank you to my reviewers sm4567, awesomefrankiefan, linalove, and the lovelyflorencelovett. They mean a lot to me and always brighten up my day when I see I have another one :) Also, thanks to everyone who read this, I can't believe the number of people who've read it, a lot more than I expected! **

**So anyway, here's the next chapter. A lot of people get introduced here so if anyone's unsure about who these people are I can try and write out a sort of family tree or something similar. A couple of them become quite important later on though so try not to forget too many of them ;)**

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**Chapter 2 – How the Other Half Lives**

_~26__th__ March 1822. Jermyn Street, St. James's~_

Unhooking his top hat from the hat stand, Benjamin Barker pulled it down over his mop of chocolate brown hair. The door was opened for him as he strode towards it with a smile on his face and his cane was handed to him by a young boy. Benjamin paused and glanced down at him, ruffling the lad's hair. He was his oldest cousin Eddy's son, David, and had just started helping out in the shop.

Skipping down the stone steps at the entrance to the shop, Benjamin emerged into the lively bustle of Jermyn Street, the home of the largest of three shops passed down to his father Thomas by his grandfather. _'Barker's Tonsorial Parlours'_ were the largest and most famous barber shops in London, cutting the hair of anyone who was anyone. And Benjamin was in line to inherit the whole lot.

Hailing a Hackney carriage he climbed up and slumped down on the worn seats. He was going to meet his cousin Oliver in Pall Mall and was running too late to walk. Despite being the youngest of his cousins his father had been the oldest of the three Barker brother's meaning when old Grandpa Benjamin had died, all three Tonsorial parlours had been left to him.

Benjamin pulled off his hat and placed it on the seat beside him, his eyes fixed on the passing London scenery out the window. It didn't take long to reach Pall Mall; the streets were quiet at this hour. Benjamin tucked his hat under his arm, stepped out the carriage, paid the coachman, and felt guilty for not walking the short distance to the club.

Between the pillars at the top of the stone steps was the tall oak door that led into '_The Harrington Club', _Benjamin and his friends' favourite club. Once through the door he immediately found himself in a fashionably decorated hallway with three doors leading off it. Benjamin strolled through the middle one held open by a young lad, his arms outstretched to receive Benjamin's hat and cane. Handing them over, he continued into a spacious smoking room. The walls were dark panelled wood and the floor was carpeted deep red. Sat in the far corner at a highly polished wood table, a cigar between his fingers was Oliver. Raising a friendly hand, Benjamin strode over, shaking his older cousin's hand as he stood up to greet him.

"Benjamin! How've you been keeping? It's been ages." Oliver exclaimed sitting back down and taking a sip from his whisky.

"Not so bad, and yourself?" Benjamin asked, readily accepting a glass of whisky off a tray.

"Things aren't so bad. Eddy's stayed away which is always a bonus!" The red head laughed, downing the last of his whisky.

Benjamin smiled. Eddy was the oldest of the seven cousins in the third generation of barkers. He had always been of the view that he should inherit the business when Benjamin's father died, a belief that had been only further cemented in his mind after he married and his first child was a son, David.

Benjamin's father Thomas had always tried to keep him close by, never giving him too much control over the running of things, however this had only had him more determined to be in charge and so now seemed to spend all his time in their smaller shop in Albion Street trying to take over it's running from Oliver.

"However my lucky escape must have landed him with you for the last few days." Oliver said, puffing out a mouthful of cigar smoke as he spoke.

Benjamin frowned, "No, not with us."

"That's funny." Oliver said, bringing his cigar thoughtfully to his thin lips, "He must have been with Father and Uncle Edward in the little shop then."

The little shop was the smallest of the three tonsorial parlours and was run by Oliver's father Richard and Eddy's father Edward. The two men were aging and reluctant to get heavily involved in the business now the three younger boys were older, opting instead to work in the smallest shop outside central London.

"Quite what he'd want to do there though is beyond me." Benjamin said with a frown and a shrug.

"Ah well, I'm sure it'll all come out soon enough." Oliver said in his usual cheery manner, "Will I be seeing you at The Lofts tonight?"

Benjamin nodded, "I expect so. I'm due a catch up with Crawley and Monday." He said, smiling at the thought of spending the evening with his two oldest friends in their favourite haunt.

"By Jove I haven't seen those two in years! You'll have to go now, I'm looking forward to a catch up."

"Of course. I'm sure they'd love to see you." Benjamin said, downing the last of his whisky.

"I'll see you there then." He pulled a gold pocket watch out of his waistcoat and sighed, "I'm afraid I'm going to have to head off. I have to stop in at the shop before I can head home." He stood up and stretched out his hand, "Until this evening."

"Until this evening." Benjamin replied, shaking his hand firmly. For a few moments Benjamin sat watching the lean figure of his cousin disappear outside before heaving himself up and heading in the same direction. A bill would be sent to the house.

His hat and cane were waiting for him in the arms of a different boy. Benjamin hated wearing his top hat. It was the one part of men's fashion he could easily go without. A Hackney Carriage was waiting outside the club, knowing that by waiting there he would be guaranteed business.

"Mount Street." Benjamin ordered as he climbed in, his hat immediately leaving his head for the seat again.

_~26__th__ March 1822. Mount Street, Mayfair~_

The house on Mount Street owned by Benjamin's parents was a statement of their wealth. Tall and imposing, it occupied the end plot of the street closest to Hyde Park. Benjamin had always thought what an attractive looking house it was, with its cream stone arched window frames and tall dark oak front door.

Climbing up the stone steps, he pushed the door open, never caring to ring and wait for someone to do it for him. The Hall was light and airy unlike so many other, less recently decorated houses. He had his mother to thank for this. She was always redecorating to match with the latest trend.

With no one around to take his outdoor things, Benjamin placed his coat, hat and cane on the table in the centre of the room before following the sound of voices into the parlour at the rear end of the house. A big window took up most of the back wall overlooking the neatly sculptured garden and sat below it was his mother with Oliver's mother, Lily-Anne.

Despite her age his mother was still a real beauty, outshining by far his younger auntie. She was blonde and petite with a small round face and regular features. She looked like a porcelain doll sat on the window seat in a pale blue and white dress, her waist pulled in as tight as the day she dazzled his father.

"Mother, Aunt Lily-Anne." Benjamin greeted them, striding over to kiss them in turn. He smiled at his Aunt; she'd always been fond of him. Benjamin perched on the edge of a couch opposite them. "Wedding planning again?" He asked.

Lily-Anne smiled and nodded, her pretty face lighting up at the thought. She was the complete opposite to his mother Amy. Her hair was thick and bright chestnut. Her eyes were large and amber coloured, the same shade as the freckles that covered her face. Benjamin had always thought she was beautiful, and was pleased when her only daughter, Emily, had grown to look more and more like her mother as she got older. Benjamin had always been close to Emily, favouring her over his other three female cousins. They were too much like Eddy, their older brother. Sly and scheming.

It was Emily's wedding that they were discussing. Months of preparations were to be bought together in a week's time when Emily finally walked down the aisle to marry the man she'd fallen in love with during the last season. He was the son of a wealthy country Lord and her parent couldn't have been happier with her choice.

"Not planning any more darling." Amy said with a smile, "Only discussing last minute things." Amy doted on Benjamin due to him being her only child after several miscarriages.

"I think our Emily would go mad if she thought there were still important things to be arranged." Lily-Anne added.

Benjamin smiled, "I suspect she probably would. She's the most organised person I know. She's lucky to have you two here to make sure everything runs smoothly." He said, gaining a smile from both women.

Benjamin knew his mother would have liked a daughter as well so when she realised that was not to be, she'd become like a second mother to Emily. Lily-Anne had never complained; the two had been best friends before they married brothers.

"We're counting on you as well Benjamin. We've only given you one role in this whole process, don't let us down." Lily-Anne said, her smile betraying the faked sincerity in her voice.

"Oh but it is the hardest role Aunt!" He exclaimed, his mother laughing as he spread his palms in desperation.

"Emily was most adamant she wanted those lunatic friends of yours Crawley and Monday at the wedding. Frankly, I'm not young enough to deal with them anymore so they are completely your responsibility." Lily-Anne said. They'd been over this time and time again.

"Make sure they're dressed appropriately, make sure they're there on time, make sure they behave in the ceremony, and make sure they don't get too drunk afterwards. Honestly Aunt, you make them sound like they never grew up!" He said.

"That's because they didn't!" she laughed.

Benjamin smiled and got up to leave them to it. A voice behind him stopped him in his tracks.

"Leaving so soon Benjamin?"

He recognised it immediately. Three strides across the room and he embraced his cousin, kissing her on the cheek. "Emily. He said warmly, "What are you doing here?" Benjamin and Emily had always been more like brother and sister than cousins. He was unsure whether this was because she was closer to his age than any of his other cousins, or because their mothers spent so much time together. Either way he didn't care, he was always glad when he was in her company.

"You make it sound like you don't want me here Benjamin." She said, before turned her attention to her mother, "I'm here to retrieve you actually mother. Had you forgotten about our appointment at the seamstresses? It's my last fitting before the big day. Come or we'll be later than we already are." She said, her manner become flustered. It always amused Benjamin to see his calm and collected cousin panicky, it was so unlike her.

"Oh Emily dear I'm so sorry!" Lily-Anne said, jumping to her feet, "I was so caught up here going over last minute plans."

"Well there won't be any need of last minute plans if my dress isn't ready." Emily said.

Ignoring the panic, Amy rose gracefully, ever the perfect society hostess and swept out, calling for Williams their butler. Moments later, he emerged with Lily-Anne's fur shawl. She wrapped it quickly round her shoulders before grasping Emily's arm and ushering her out.

"Benjamin will you hail us a Hackney?" Lily-Anne asked as they left the parlour.

"I asked the one that brought me here to wait." Emily said, pausing as Williams opened the door for them.

"Good girl. I'm so sorry for the impromptu departure Amy." Lily-Anne apologised, pausing at the front door to kiss her friend.

Amy shook her head, "I won't hear of it. It was my fault for keeping you too long." She turned to Emily waiting impatiently at the top of the stairs, "Good luck my dear, I'm sure you'll look fabulous."

Emily smiled, "I'll have to look fabulous in one of your amazing gowns if we don't hurry." She said, looking pointedly at her mother.

"Yes, of course. Good bye Amy dear." Lily-Anne said, dashing out the door and after her daughter. The Hackney carriage was waiting as promised and within seconds they were bundled in and speeding of in the direction of the seamstresses.

Amy turned to Benjamin as Williams shut the door on the world behind them. "Will you be here for dinner tonight darling?"

"No I'm meeting Crawley and Monday tonight. I might be back late." He said, turning to Williams, "You've no need to wait up, I can let myself in."

"Very good Sir." He said, taking his cue to leave.

"But if you'll excuse me mother, I must pop back to the shop briefly." He said, kissing her on the cheek before opening the door and slipping back out into the world.

_~26__th__ March 1822. Jermyn Street, St. James's~_

It didn't take Benjamin long to locate his silver engraved cigar case, his reason for returning to the shop instead of staying at home and preparing for that evening. Pulling a cigar out, he snapped the case closed, slipped it into his inside pocket and left the shop parlour. In the corridor, he met his father heading the other way.

"Benjamin. Are you heading off?" Thomas asked, blocking his way past.

"I was, unless you wanted to see me." He said, as ever never wishing to get into an argument with his stern father.

"Come into the office." The old man said.

Benjamin retraced his steps passing the parlour and into the next room. Taking a seat in the red leather wingback chair, he waited as his aging father slumped down in the seat on the other side of the wide mahogany desk.

"I know you're not a fan of your cousin Eddy." He said, as ever getting straight to the point, "But I've given him full responsibility of the home visits."

Benjamin was shocked into silence momentarily. The home visits were a vital part of the business, with many of their high profiled customers preferring to have their hair cut in the comfort of their own homes rather than one of the shops. Up until now, Benjamin, Oliver, Oliver's father Richard and Eddy had shared out the rounds between them, enjoying the chance to build up personal friendships with often influential and high flying customers. Allowing Eddy sole responsibility of this role was a massive blow to not only Benjamin's pride, but his control over Eddy as well.

"You can't be serious father. You can't really be about to give him all this power. Just think of the people he'll be spending time with. You know what he's like; you know he wants to inherit the business." Benjamin said desperately.

Thomas' face turned stony; he hated being argued with, "The decision has been made Benjamin. There will be no further discussion on this point."

Opening his mouth to protest, Benjamin realised it was no use. When his father had made up his mind of something, there was no dissuading him. He would just have to bite the bullet and accept that Eddy would be doing the home rounds now. Dispirited, he pulled himself up out of the wingback and strode out the office, the sounds of rustling paper behind him alerting him to the fact that his father was not going to call him back.

Letting himself out the room, he slipped the cigar he was still holding between his lips, lit it on an oil lamp hung on the wall, and left the shop, ignoring David's cheery farewell from parlour as he passed.

A Hackney carriage was waiting outside the shop. Shouting his destination to the driver, he climbed in and slumped down heavily on the seat. He tried to think of a motive behind his father's decision. He had always been such a sensible and level headed man, knowing the troublemakers and keeping them close. Giving Eddy control of the home visits would not only remove him from under the watch of his father, but allow him to spend time with some of the most powerful and influential people around. As hard as Benjamin tried, he could see no good reason for doing this.

_~26__th__ March 1822. Mount Street, Mayfair~_

The grandfather clock in the hall downstairs striking half past eight told Benjamin he was late. Glancing at his reflection for the last time, he straightened his cravat and buttoned his waistcoat, checking his cigar case and pocket watch were in the inside pocket as he dashed out of his room and down the stairs, relieved to see Williams waiting by the front door with his cane, top hat and tail coat.

"Like I said Williams, don't wait up." He said, slipping his arms into the sleeves and buttoning the coat up.

"Very good Sir." Came Williams' usual reply.

The door was held open for him as he tucked his hat under his arm and darted down the stone steps, hailing a passing Hackney with his cane. "The Lofts, Haymarket please." He called up to the driver, slamming the door closed behind him and hoping Crawley and Monday wouldn't be too cross he was running almost half an hour late.

All the street lamps had been lit by the time the Hackney pulled up outside The Lofts. Climbing out, Benjamin pulled on his hat, brushed down his jacket, and paid the driver, shouting back for him to keep the change as he headed up to the door.

"Good evening Mr. Barker." The doorman said, holding the door open for Benjamin as he walked in. The entrance hall was quiet at this time, with most men having arrived earlier to secure the best tables or the best women. A uniformed lad of no more than 12 or 13 wandered over to him, arms outstretched. Benjamin quickly handed him his hat and cane, slipping a shilling into his hand with the instructions that he was to take extra care of his things.

"Benjamin Barker!" A woman's voice from behind him called, "Your friends are beginning to think you'd stood them up!"

Benjamin turned, recognising the voice immediately, "Ellen!" He said, grasping the petite woman's shoulders and kissing her cheeks.

Ellen Hayes was the owner of The Lofts, a curious business that was one of its kind. It was in effect a high class brothel, famous for only taking on the prettiest and cleanest girls, the result of which was a clientele containing some of the wealthiest and high flying men in London. But there was another side to The Lofts as well as this, with the majority of the ground floor taken up by smoking rooms, card rooms and a large dance floor equipped with a band, giving it the air of an up market gentleman's club.

"Mr. Crawley and Mr. Monday are in the back card room." Ellen said, taking Benjamin's arm. The back card room was his favourite place. Small and intimate, it allowed him to meet with friends and spend the evening in their company without fighting for space with anyone else.

A short walk through a narrow corridor took them around the other rooms and straight into the back card room. It was lit by oil lamps fixed to the wall that gave off an orange light that mingled with the thick clouds of cigar smoke. Muffled music from the band in the ballroom next door drifted through the walls. The room was almost entirely taken up by two large card tables, each with four seats pulled up to them.

At the sound of people entering, all eyes turned to the door. Benjamin instantly spotted his two oldest friends, Gabriel Crawley and Daniel Monday.

"Benjamin!" Crawley exclaimed, shooting up from his chair and almost knocking the table over.

"We thought you'd stood us up." Monday said.

"What the devil took you so long? Tabby's been in looking for you." Crawley said with a wink.

Benjamin embraced both of them briefly before making his apologies and taking a seat at the table, only then noticing Oliver occupying the fourth chair. "You made it." Benjamin said, pleased to see his cousin, "I have news for you. I went back into the shop earlier and saw my father."

"Can't it wait Benjamin? Must you bring business here?" he asked with a good natured smile.

Benjamin shrugged, "It's about Eddy." He said, watching as a frown passed over Oliver's freckled face.

Monday dealing the cards drew his attention away from his cousin. "We'll speak later." Oliver whispered, turning his attention back to the table.

-x-

Later never came. A couple of hours at the table and several glasses of whisky meant that by the time the clock struck eleven and Ellen came into the room to ask if they cared to dance before the band stopped for the night, Benjamin had completely forgotten about Eddy.

About £40 up, Benjamin was in a good mood. He ushered everyone from the table and out the door, following close behind Ellen as she led them into the ballroom. A group of four whores in the far corner spotted them and sashayed over. Benjamin recognised two of them but neither was Tabby.

For the past few weeks Benjamin had been fixated by a young beauty named Tabby. Benjamin suspected she was about a year younger than him, around 17, but he'd never actually asked her. She had thick hair the colour of a tabby cat and it was this he assumed that was how she had gotten her name. Her bright green eyes were wide and youthful and he often found himself getting lost in them. She stood out from the crowd a mile and Benjamin always felt proud when she was with him. Except tonight he couldn't see her anywhere.

One of the girls that had come over to greet them slipped her arm through his and leant up to whisper in his ear, "Shall we dance?" she asked, her eyes wide and innocent as he looked down at her. He cringed, he had never been that interested in coming to places like this and picking up women. He did it mainly for the social side rather than the inevitable at the end of the evening. That's why he enjoyed The Lofts so much; he could slip away after a good evening of cards when his companions went upstairs with their women. This had changed when he met Tabby. Somehow she was different. He knew it was her job to seduce him and get him to her bed but still it always seemed different with her. Sometimes they simply sat up and talked all night, fully clothed in a companionable and relaxed atmosphere, her sprawled across the bed and him the couch.

Untangling himself from the woman on his arm, he pushed through the crowd towards Ellen, catching her eye as he got closer. "No Tabby tonight." He asked, glancing round the room again.

Ellen faltered, glancing at the door to the staircase that led to the rooms upstairs. "I'm sorry Benjamin, she's otherwise engaged." Ellen said.

Benjamin's eyes snapped back to Ellen. For some reason he felt betrayed and hurt by her. He knew she was a whore, he knew she saw other men, but the thought of her upstairs now with another man in her bed made him fume.

"I assure you we have plenty of other girls, just as nice." Ellen said, catching the eye of a blonde on the other side of the room who instantly came over, a sweet smile on her full lips as she slipped her hand into Benjamin's.

"No. Thank you Ellen." He said, pulling his hand away, "I think I'll be heading home now." He bowed his head to her, ignoring the girl next to him before sweeping from the room. The boy he'd paid to look after his things was asleep leaning up against the door to the cloakroom. Benjamin prodded him with his toe, stepping back when he jumped up wildly, eyes franticly scanning the room. A look of relief passed over his face followed by embarrassment.

"Sorry Sir. Yer won't tell Mrs. Hayes will yer?" The lad asked, eyes on the floor.

"Get my things quickly and I won't." Benjamin said, not in the mood for the young boy's apologies.

"Course Sir. Right away Sir." He said, disappearing into the room only to reappear moments later. "I looked after them real good Sir, jus' like yer asked."

Benjamin thanked him as he pulled on his hat, striding quickly out the door and into the cool night air. Taking a deep breath he relaxed as he felt the chill of the night in his lungs. Wiping a hand over his face, he strolled down the street, deciding he would walk until he found a Hackney rather than wait for one. He needed the night air to clear his head.

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**Hope you enjoyed and don't forget to review! :)**

**Dolly x**


	3. 3 - To Things Yet to Come

**Firstly, a big sorry for the wait between chapters. I'm working crazy hours at the moment to try and get money for uni so have no time for anything else. Secondly, as always, massive thank you's to LovettHelenaist, linalove, and sm4567 for your reviews. They make me smile after a long day at work so keep them coming guys :)**

**Just because I forgot to do this! DISCLAIMER: Ben and Nellie are (unfortunately) not mine. Everyone you don't recognise is :D **

**As always, hope you enjoy and I'll try not to make the wait for the next chapter so long :)**

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**Chapter 3 – To Things Yet to Come**

_~27__th__ March 1822. Haymarket, St. James~_

The crisp early morning sunshine seeped through the open window, the gentle breeze blowing the lace curtains softly. Stretching out her sleep cramped legs, Tabby rolled over, pulling the clean cotton sheets over her shoulders to keep out the chill from the sharp spring breeze. Opening one eye, she waited for the world to come into focus before locating the carriage clock that sat on her chest of drawers. She squinted slightly as she tried to make out the time sideways and still half asleep. Quarter past eight. It was early.

Burying her face back in the soft feather pillow she waited for sleep to overcome her again, only to find it slipping further away. Sighing, she heaved herself up into a sitting position, the white sheets slipping from her bare shoulders and pooling in her lap as she did so. Goose bumps spread across her naked flesh as the chilled morning air brushed across her pale skin. Realising she wasn't going to get back to sleep, she flung back the covers and swung her legs out of bed, stepping onto the cold wooden floor and stretching the kinks out of her naked body. Padding over to the window, she pushed it closed, shutting out the morning chill.

A loud rumble sounded, causing Tabby to ease the curtains aside and peer up into the sky. Clear and blue. She frowned. The rumble came again and it took her a few seconds to realise the source was not the sky, but her own neglected stomach. She looked back up to the sky again, only this time not to determine the weather, but to decide whether she could bring herself to venture out into the crisp chill of a March morning just to satisfy her stomach. And that's when it came again, a deep grumble that felt as though it spread throughout her whole body. Accepting defeat, she moved away from the window to her wardrobe, opening the door and running her fingertips over her dresses, waiting for one to jump out at her.

Almost reaching the end, she paused and smiled, reaching in and pulling out the heavy lilac fabric. The smell of lavender assaulted her nostrils as she laid the dress out on the bed. Her corset and silk chemise were pulled from under the bed where they were kicked the night before by her last customer, the chemise instantly being slipped over her head to shut out the chill of her bedroom. She reached for her corset, pulling it tight around herself and sucking in her breath as she fastened the hooks down the front. As the last one slid into place, she released her breath, taking in a huge gulp of air and watching as her plump breasts swelled out the top of the tight corset. Stocking and petticoats were pulled on next, the sound of her stomach encouraging her as she reached for the thick lilac skirt. It was cut open at the front revealing a cream and lilac ladder of silk and lace. Adjusting it to sit perfectly on her broad hips, she reached for the bodice, a tightly fitting, low cut piece with laces up the front and ruffles on the sleeves. She adjusted the bodice in front of her long mirror on the wall, spinning this way and that. Tabby was not a vain girl but her appearance was something she took pride in. She'd always liked fine dresses and preferred saving her money to buy nice ones when she could afford them rather than paying a few pennies for someone else's used one. She liked to think of this as her little pleasure in life. And after all, when your job relied on you catching the eye of a man, who could afford not to look their best?

Another rumble from her belly forced her away from the mirror and to the door, collecting her reticule and soft black leather gloves as she went. Pulling them over her hands, she walked quietly across the landing and down the stairs, through the door and into the deserted ballroom. The air was thick with the smell of stale smoke and whisky. Tabby screwed up her nose and hurried on, out into the hallway where Johnny, Mrs. Hayes' young helper, was asleep against the cloakroom door. Tiptoeing past him, Tabby emerged into the fresh of the March morning.

Unsure of a destination, she set off up the street, deciding breakfast would be provided by the first patisserie she came across. And it didn't take long. Two streets walk and she stopped in front of a tempting looking shop that had just opened its door to customers. Stepping inside, her nostrils were filled with the sweets smells of icing and sugar. Running a finger along the display casing, she paused, her eyes fixed on a cream filled bun, the top drizzled with sticky icing. The man behind the counter caught her eye and reached in for the bun, wrapping it in paper. The correct coins were quickly produced so Tabby could finally lay her hands on breakfast. She dashed out the shop in search of somewhere to sit and eat.

Despite her cramping stomach, Tabby decided she would head to Hyde park, the thought of a morning spent in the sunshine in the park enough for her to ignore her stomach for long enough to walk the distance.

_~27__th__ March1822. Church Lane, St. Giles~_

The Turners had allowed themselves one more night in each other's company in their rented room. Nellie hadn't slept and she knew Danny boy hadn't either. Her head turned towards him and she could just make out the shadowed outline of his face in the smoggy light of early morning. His eyes were open. She prodded him with her shoulder. He turned to face her.

"We 'ave ter get out of 'ere." He mouthed, a frown growing across Nellie's face in response. Slowly, inch by inch, he sat up, crawling off the end of the mattress without disturbing ma lying next to him. He held out a hand to Nellie who took it after a moment's hesitation. "The work'ouse is a dead end. We'll be separated, probably never see each other again. We need ter get out of 'ere now. While we still can." He whispered, eyes darting back to his parents still asleep on the mattress.

Wide eyed and shocked Nellie stared at him, "What will we do?"

Danny boy bowed his head and sighed. Nellie was frightened, "We can't stay tergether Nell. We need ter look after ourselves. It's easier than lookin' out fer each other all the time."

A lone tear slid down her cheek, "How will we cope?"

"I'm goin' ter go ter Wales. I 'eard some boys sayin' they're always lookin' fer minors there. I'm strong enough fer it." He said, and he was right.

"An' me?" She asked, tears falling freely now at the thought of her brother travelling away from London, the thought of possibly never seeing him again.

"I don't know Nell. Go ter seamstresses. Yer good with a needle an' thread. Jus' promise me one thing. Don't sell yerself. Don't lose yer morals."

Nellie nodded tearfully, whimpering as he grabbed her hands and pulled her to the door. Slowly he opened it, making sure not to make a sound. The pair slipped out and dashed down the stairs into the icy morning. Embracing her quickly, he pressed his lips to her cheek before releasing her and turning away, striding off down the road without a backwards glance.

Nellie stood, staring, unbelieving. A choice, that's what she had now. She could go back up the stairs, curl up next to ma and feign ignorance when she woke up to discover Danny boy was missing, or she could leave, do the same as her brother and walk off without looking back.

A deep breath of frosty air filled her with enough courage to take the first steps away from the house she'd grown up in. Another breath and she carried on walking. Another breath convinced her not to look back. If she did she knew she would weaken and be back in her ma's arms in a matter of seconds. She paused on the corner.

This was it, the start of her new life.

_~27__th__ March 1822. Haymarket, St. James~_

It wasn't through laziness that Tabby had decided to take a Hackney from Hyde Park back to Haymarket. Or at least, that's what she'd spent the journey telling herself. Last night she'd ended up with a very wealthy and important man by the name of Jones. She doubted it was his real name, they rarely were, but that didn't matter; he didn't stay long but he paid her well. And that was the real reason she had taken a Hackney home. Because she could.

A sharp thud on the roof from her fist brought the carriage to a halt. Tabby stepped out and glanced up at a confused looking coachman. She'd told him her destination was two streets away from Haymarket. Some coachmen were funny about taking whores. Realisation crossed his face as she reached into her reticule; she was right, he had mistaken her for a lady.

She reached up with the correct money which he took with a scowl on his face. He would be more cautious in future. Johnny, the cloakroom boy, was waiting in the hallway as Tabby let herself in the front door. He looked impatient and dashed over to her before she'd fully closed the door.

"Miss Tabby, Ms. Hayes wants ter see yer. She's been waitin' a while." He blurted.

Pulling off her gloves as she went, Tabby made her way quickly to Ellen's parlour at the pack of the house. It was small and cosy and well decorated with a large window at the back which flooded the room with light. Ellen was draped over a black leather chaise lounge reading a thick novel, its cover tatty and its binding fraying.

Tabby made herself comfortable in a matching leather wingback opposite, watching as Ellen folded a corner down and placed the book on the floor. She smiled warmly; Ellen had always been like a mother to her.

"You wanted to see me?"

"I didn't think you were coming back. I thought you'd run off with that rich man from last night."

Tabby smiled, "If only."

"It's not impossible my dear. In fact, it's the reason I called you here." Ellen said, causing a frown to spread over Tabby' face. "Nancy's gone. No warning, no note. All her clothes have gone, her room's empty." Tabby slumped back into the chair. It was Nancy who had picked her up from the streets of St. Giles what seemed like years ago. A scared and alone child of thirteen with no options apart from the workhouse or becoming a street whore, Nancy had brought her to The Lofts where Ellen had taken her on. Although it still wasn't a life anyone would choose, it was significantly safer than being on the streets.

"Where would she have gone?" Tabby asked distractedly.

"Her fancy man was here again last night. I've suspected they've been planning something for a while now."

Tabby nodded; it would make sense. Nancy was crazy about a young country lad who had been in London the year before for the season. He'd come back in January for no apparent reason. Now it seemed obvious, it was for Nancy.

"They've probably gone back to the country. He can spend some money on her, get her passable as a lady. No one needs to know." She said thoughtfully.

Ellen nodded in agreement. Tabby stood up to leave, wandering slowly to the door deep in thought. "Oh, and Tabby." Ellen's voice stopped her in the doorway. "Your young barber called last night. I told him you were otherwise engaged."

Tabby froze before nodding and leaving. In a trance, her legs carried her up the back stairs and along the corridor to her room. She shut herself inside, heading straight to the bed where her shaky legs collapsed from under her. Benjamin had come. And she'd been upstairs lying underneath another man.

She buried her head in her hands. Why did it matter so much to her? He was just another customer like any other man. But yet she knew that was a lie, he'd treated her better than anyone. He was kind and respectful to her. He was her only real friend.

Suddenly feeling the need to be out the house, she shot up off the bed again and flew out her room, sweeping down the stairs and straight out into the street. She jumped in a passing Hackney before the coachman had time to object and shouted the first destination that came to her head.

_~27__th__ March 1822. Church Street, St. Giles~_

Nellie had been walking all morning and now her feet were hurting. Unlike her brother, she had no plan, no destination. Something which was very apparent as she slumped down on the doorstep of a pub. She wasn't sure where the time had gone. She hadn't stopped since Danny boy had left and she'd only reached the other side of St. Giles. Tears rolled freely down her cheeks as she realised she would probably starve. She had no money, no shelter, she was completely on her own.

The only option that kept niggling in the back of her mind would involve breaking her promise to her brother. And that she wouldn't do.

She knew she should head to the better parts of the city; she'd heard stories of poor homeless girls being taken in by kind and childless rich women seeking a purpose in life. Even if she had to work in service to gain entrance to a good house she was willing. But for some reason she couldn't find the strength of the motivation to heave herself off the doorstep and walk the distance.

Without warning, the door behind her opened, sending her flying backwards down two steep steps before landing with a thud on the filthy tiled floor below. She looked up warily at the woman standing over her. She was a heavily set woman with red cheeks and a concerned look on her aging face. Her mousy hair was scraped away from her round face. Nellie took her outstretched hand, pulling herself to her feet. The woman was short, about the same height as Nellie. She wore an old brown and white dress with a corset over the top, the laces stretched from being pulled so tight around her belly.

"Are yer alrigh' dear?" she said, her voice soft and worried. Nellie nodded, eyes flicking to the door. "Come in, come in. Yer look starved ter death." She said, wrapping a thick arm around her shoulders and guiding her to a rickety looking barstool. Nellie perched on the edge nervously. "Let me get yer somethin' ter drink me dear. Warm yer up."

"I must go!" Nellie pleaded, going to stand only to pause at the no nonsense look on the woman's face. "I can't pay yer anythin'." She said, hoping the idea of giving away free drink would dissuade her.

The woman laughed heartily as she poured a small earthenware tankard of ale, "Yer fell inter me shop dear, I could of hurt yer. The least I can do is give yer a drink ter say sorry." She strode over to the fire in the far corner of the room where she pulled a hot poker out and plunged it into the tankard, holding it away from herself as it hissed and spat.

"I'm not chargin' yer anythin' love." She said, sliding the tankard towards Nellie who took a cautious sip, "Besides, yer look like yer could do with somethin' inside yer. When was the last time yer ate anythin'?"

Nellie shrugged, "Yesterday lunchtime." She said.

The woman smiled sympathetically at her, "Well, we'll soon see ter that."

_~27__th__ March 1822. Seven Dials, St. Giles~_

The coachman had taken Tabby as far as he would. She suspected that for any other lady he would have taken her to Seven Dials itself for a small extra fee. But then any normal lady wouldn't have business in Seven Dials.

Tabby had walked the last stretch, earning her some strange looks from people. She'd forgotten the poverty she'd left behind. Dressed up in her lilac gown she stood out like a sore thumb.

It only took her a few minutes to reach the junction. She looked down each of the streets that led from it, trying to conjure up the courage to walk down the narrowest one, the one which would lead her to her home. She hadn't been back here since the day Nancy put her arm round her shoulders and bundled her into a Hackney. Tabby had never been in a Hackney before. She'd tried not to think back to her previous life but talk of her oldest friend leaving had filled her with a strange sense of needing to return here. To see how far she'd come. And it was a good excuse to get away from the house to think about Benjamin.

Turning her back on Seven Dials, she headed further into St. Giles. She didn't feel like raking up her past any further today. The road quickly became a narrow street as she entered the rookery. Long forgotten smells of dung, damp, and overcrowding assaulted her nostrils causing her to wrinkle her nose. She lifted her heavy skirts so they swished around her ankles, not wanting to get them covered in the grime that lined the streets. It only took a few minutes of walking for her to find herself on Church Street, the street that ran straight through the heart of St. Giles. About half way down she spotted something which stirred a memory deep inside her. Wandering closer, she paused outside glanced up at the crooked sign hanging off the wall. _'The Warren'_. She remembered this pub well; how couldn't she? She'd spent many an evening making the trip from their home to here to retrieve her father before helping him home again. Pushing the door slowly open, she ducked and carefully climbed down the two steep steps into the pub.

After allowing her eyes to adjust to the gloom, she spotted the woman she'd been hoping was still here. Bet Marsh, the landlady. There had been many times when Taby had relied on the strong frame of Bet to haul her father up the stairs and out the pub.

Noticing her hovering in the doorway, Bet slipped out from behind the counter, eyeing her nervously, "May I 'elp yer miss? I do believe yer lost deary. Let me point yer back in the right direction. It ain't safe fer ladies like yerself ter be 'ere." She said, squeezing past her and opening the door.

Tabby smiled slightly, she didn't realise quite how much she'd changed. "Bet. It's me. It's Tabby." She said, watching as recognition passed over the old woman's face.

"My dear! I didn't recognise yer. Aren't yer lookin' quite the lady!" she exclaimed, circling Tabby slowly, "Yer must come in an' sit down. We've got some catchin' up ter do!"

_~27__th__ March 1822. Church Street, St. Giles~_

Recognition stirred in Nellie's mind as soon as she laid eyes on the woman standing in the doorway to the pub. She racked her memory, trying to remember where she'd seen her before. As the landlady led her over, Nellie was dazzled by her beautiful lilac dress, her fresh clean face and her tabby coloured hair. She watched her, mesmerised as she perched on a barstool and chatted happily to the landlady. Nellie was too absorbed by her to hear what she was saying, or to register the look of sympathy on the old woman's face as the girl told her where she'd been for the past few years.

After a few moments, Nellie remembered her ale, cupping the warm tankard between her hands and sipping it slowly. She continued to watch the girl, trying desperately to think of where she'd seen her before. Nellie glanced over at the landlady as she turned and headed down the bar to where she was sat. She smiled briefly at her before turning her attention back to the girl.

With the landlady gone, Nellie watched as the girl turned her head to face her, a warm smile on her face a she cocked her head to the side slightly. Suddenly it hit her. She was the girl in the pink dress from the market, the one that had given her that very same smile when she noticed her and Danny boy huddled in a doorway waiting for the crowds to arrive. Nellie wondered whether she recognised her. She doubted it.

However, she didn't have to ponder long. The girl rose slowly, brushing her skirts out the way as she headed straight for her. Nellie smiled nervously, taking another sip from her ale. She'd never been so close to a lady before.

"I've seen you before. In the market, right?" she asked. Nellie nodded dumbly, "You were with a young boy then though?" she asked.

"My brother, miss." Nellie mumbled.

The girl smiled softly, "And where is he now." Nellie looked away, feeling tears welling in her eyes. The girl stepped closer, a concerned look on her face, "I didn't mean to upset you."

"He's in Wales." Nellie croaked, "We ran away, our parents went ter the work'ouse and we ran away." Suddenly she felt a hand on her shoulder, squeezing gently. She looked up to see the girl smiling sadly at her.

"And what about you? What are you going to do now?"

Nellie shrugged, she hadn't got a clue. Somewhere in her head was telling her this could be her chance, to get a home with a lady. But she couldn't think of that now, all she could think of was trying not to look too pitiful in front of her. "I'll go an' live with friends, miss." She lied.

The girl straightened up, nodded, and smiled sadly. "I hope they look after you." She said before turning and heading round the bar. Nellie watched as she said her goodbyes to the landlady before sweeping out the pub.

As soon as the door had closed Nellie regretted saying she had somewhere to go. The girl in the lilac dress could have been her only chance to make it into a nice house and she'd thrown it away. For a fleeting moment she considered running after the girl and telling her the truth, that she had no home, she was all alone in the world, but a hatred of begging for favours stopped her and she sipped her ale instead.

_~27__th__ March 1822. Church Street, St. Giles~_

As soon as Tabby stepped outside into the heavy air of Church Street she had a sudden urge to go home. Cursing the lack of Hackneys anywhere nearby she grabbed hold of her skirts and dashed along the street, ignoring the cries and jeers of the inhabitants. It didn't take her long to reach Seven Dials where she paused to get her breath back. She wiped her hand across her forehead; not so many years ago she could have run from her old home to _The Warren _and back again without breaking a sweat.

Before she could stop herself she felt tears begin to slide down her cheeks. She covered her eyes with a gloved hand, biting her lip to stop it trembling. Taking a deep breath she chastised herself for being so pathetic, for crying without a reason to. But the more she thought of it, the more she realised she had plenty to cry about; being born into poverty, running away from home, being picked up by a whore and being forced to lie with a man at the age of thirteen.

A gentle hand on her arm made her jump, her hand muffling her cry of surprise. Glancing down she saw the grubby face of the girl from the pub looking worriedly up at her. Wiping her eyes quickly, Tabby straightened herself up and flashed the girl a wobbly smile.

"Are yer alrigh' miss?" she asked. Tabby nodded quickly, not trusting her voice to come out steadily. "Are yer lost? Yer won't find a Hackney 'ere. Let me take yer." She said, turning and heading off in the direction Tabby had come earlier in a carriage.

With a sigh, she followed the girl, keeping to the edge of the street to avoid the drains. After a few moments of walking, Tabby took a deep breath and jogged to catch up with girl, trusting her voice would be level by now.

"So where do your friends live?" She asked, watching as confusion crossed the girl's face, "The ones you're going to stay with." She prompted.

"Oh, oh those friends. In... Church Lane. The far end o' Church Lane." She stuttered.

Tabby nodded slowly; she was clearly lying. The image of Nancy wrapping her arm around her shoulders flooded through her mind. She glanced back down at the girl. Would she be doing her a favour? Would she be helping her out? She suddenly realised she didn't have much time to consider that as they left St. Giles and the first Hackney sped past them. Upon spying Tabby, the next carriage pulled over and the driver jumped down to open the door for her. She looked down at the girl who was turning to head back into the rookery. She opened her mouth before she could stop herself, "Have you ever been in a Hackney?" The girl paused and turned back to her, shaking her head slowly. "In you hop then." She said, smiling sadly as a look of disbelief crossed her pretty young face. Tabby imagined that was what her face looked like all those years ago before she realised just what she was getting herself into.

**Thanks for reading and don't forget to review :)**

**Dolly x**


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